


Abandon Ship

by CraftyDemonite



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: AU, Adventure, Friendship, Gen, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of disememberment and devouring other creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CraftyDemonite/pseuds/CraftyDemonite
Summary: The earl can no longer stand idly by as they are kept in this miserable place in perpetuity; finding victory in battle, but never winning the war. Sequel to Untethering. AU.
Relationships: Earl of Lemongrab & Finn the Human
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Abandon Ship

**Author's Note:**

> LG1 = Limoncello “Cello”  
> LG2 = Meringue
> 
> Please note that this story is a sequel to "Untethering" and takes place within an AU. Thank you.

Cello stands stock still, glaring down at the mess of bodies and pooling blood and trampled foliage and trying very hard not to think about anything.

They have just finished clearing out another area where the prancers lurked, another point on the map to be crossed out, though there's no satisfaction to be found in a job well done. Not when Cello is carrying around this tangled mass of hurt and frustration and betrayal that's wrapped around his heart and pressing down on his shoulders. Not when it's growing larger and more knotted with the passing minutes and hours and spreading out like a cage around him, trapping him in place and pushing everyone away. Not when the banana guards and the dog and even Queen Marceline have been taking increasingly wider and wider berths around him because they can sense it.

Not when he feels like a coil spun too far and ready to snap at any moment.

There's a sensation like the crackle of static electricity of someone entering into the space his spiraling mood has been inadvertently creating and scaring off any other living being with its intensity, but Cello doesn't move. He doesn't look over because he knows those footsteps peculiarly well these days along with the familiar rattling of a sword that was never sheathed in a proper scabbard even though carrying it around with a bare blade was dangerous. Even though Cello had offered on many occasions to create one for it.

Only one person would dare to approach him right now, because Finn never had much of an instinct for self-preservation. Especially considering how he never seemed to be truly frightened of Cello at any point in time, even when he really should be. Like right now, for example.

"Yo!" Finn calls as if Cello can't hear him standing right behind him, "Looks like we got the last of 'em here and the 'nanas are gonna start cleaning up. We're supposed to head back now."

Cello clenches and unclenches his fists a few times to try and work out some of the tension in his arms.

"You go," he tells the boy sharply, "I need to…"

He needs to stop thinking about _what Meringue said_. He needs to find something to do with himself, focus on work, wear himself down until he's too exhausted to have coherent thoughts and then force himself even further past that point to ensure that when he does finally collapse that he does not dream.

And then he needs to get up and do it again. And again. _And again._ Until the hurt dulls and scabs over and leaves a deep scar he can carry around instead. He had gotten quite good at managing those over the centuries. What was one more?

Regardless of what he needs to do and what Finn is telling him he _should_ be doing, Cello is staying right here. He's going to stay here until he can untangle just a little bit of the mess inside of him and he can breathe again.

Finn isn't having his obstinance it seems, and grabs at his wrist and tugs as though he can even hope to move someone that towers over him like Cello does. Even if sometimes Cello allows Finn to take his hand and drag him along, if only to make him happy.

Cello reacts quickly and on instinct; smacking the boy's hand away. Forgetting his own size and strength. Knocking Finn to the ground.

There's a stab of remorse and _didn't mean to do that_ in his gut that manages to pull him from the darkest of his thoughts, lets him move freely again, and he looks down in alarm at what he's done. He can't make out much aside from the fact that Finn has fallen on his backside. He still hasn't put his glasses back on since the battle had finished and everything close to him is a blurry mass of colors.

Cello does so hastily, pulling his glasses from his breast pocket and sliding them on with slightly trembling hands, feeling a little bit more like himself with them in place. Feeling a little less like the thing he would become during combat and war.

"You shouldn't startle me like that." It's not the apology he _should_ be giving, but it's the closest he can get to one right now.

Despite the fact that he's done wrong and feels guilty for it, Cello can't help but be a little bit grateful for the distraction. It gives him something to do, something else to focus on than just spinning Meringue's hurtful words round and round in his head. Namely, making sure Finn hasn't been injured too much by either the prancers or his own actions.

Hauling the boy back to his feet is no more difficult for him than picking up a pen would be, and Cello drops to one knee to be more at his level, if only slightly, and get a better look at him.

He seems alright, if a bit tired, and Finn tells him as such when Cello asks if anything is broken or hurting more than it reasonably should be. There's a few scrapes on his face, bruises on his arms, and cuts on his knees, but no more than that. He'll have to make a salve for the boy when they return to camp to ensure nothing gets infected. Finn never considers such things like keeping his wounds bandaged and his dog brother sometimes doesn't care if he does or not, so Cello must keep tabs on him lest he fall ill.

Keeping such tabs on him has been easy to do as of late because Finn has been following him around as if he were his shadow. To some extent, it makes sense. Cello has been very busy fighting battles others cannot, keeping everyone in line, planning their next moves, and so on. Meringue has been kept by mother princess' side and apart from him with increasing frequency and for extended periods of time. Finn has probably taken notice of the empty space by Cello's side, how odd it must look to see the earl alone when he and his brother were so often nearly inseparable, and is trying to fill that void with himself for the time being.

It's why Cello has been forced to do things like make up silly games to keep Finn's mind focused on fighting prancers and not on him when in combat. Why he lets Finn bring him coffee, water, a snack even when Cello isn't interested and would prefer to be left alone. Why whenever Finn is _insistent_ on bothering him, he lets the boy help out to some small degree where he won't mess things up too badly and Cello can endure the scolding from mother princess if he does. Deliver this message over there, color this part of the map in here, grind up these herbs for me since you like to use the mortar and pestle so much. Finn enjoys feeling useful. It keeps him content and happy, like how mother princess would want the boy to be.

To Cello, Finn is very much like how Meringue had been when he was first created; eager for his approval, a little helpless at times, and bizarrely endearing in a way Cello can't quite pin down. And like Meringue, he and Cello hadn't gotten along at first. Sometimes they still don't.

Thinking of things like that, of how Meringue and Finn were so alike, yet so different, makes his brother's absence somehow even more apparent, like there's a hollow emptiness hovering around him. As much as he's trying, Finn can't fill the space where Meringue is supposed to be and Finn already has his own place. Not at his side, but in his life as a 'friend', although Cello is uncertain he will ever get used to such a concept.

He's just finishing inspecting Finn's hands, noting how red and raw his knuckles are and how he's going to have to teach the boy how to wrap them properly to lessen the damage that punching can bring, when he feels Finn's eyes boring into him. Cello glances at him, slightly annoyed by the interruption.

"You're being _weird_ again. Like not yourself," Finn tells him with a frown and Cello drops the boy's hands and looks away in a huff, plopping down to sit because the rush of adrenaline that fighting brings is wearing off and fatigue is taking its place.

Cello wants to ask what Finn means by that, because he's been saying it too often for his liking. Like the other night when Cello was exhausted to the point of delirium and his head had been in a bad place and Finn had inexplicably been there as well as though he had known something was amiss. Does he want him to be angry and shouty? Cold and dismissive? He's merely concerned and has every right to be because while many see Finn as sturdy and resilient, to Cello, he's delicate and fragile and too easily broken if the earl isn't careful with his grip and gentle with his movements. Most things are to him.

There's a feather stuck in his teeth, worrying at his gums, and he picks it out, finding it slimy with his saliva, and flicks it away. Cello never liked feathers on the things that he ate. They always bunched up and were very sticky and scratchy going down.

Finn follows the cast aside feather with his eyes, but doesn't say anything about it. It was just another thing stacked on top of all the _other_ things about him that his teammates chose not to see and fiercely ignored when they did. Like those times when his rage and hunger – for he was always _so hungry_ and never satisfied – got away from him and he had to tear and rend and _devour_ any fresh, warm, wriggling _thing_ he could get his hands on. It was why some of the prancer corpses were missing limbs or tails. Two of them were missing their heads. He can taste iron in the back of his throat and there's a heaviness in his stomach that does nothing to satiate that endless, gnawing hunger for _more_.

Part of him hopes that Finn hadn't seen, but also knows that he did.

Cello wonders again why the boy isn't scared of him even when he does rather unacceptable things like that. Why Finn treats him so well, outside of the odd prank or trick. Why he treats him normally and not like he's some problem needing to be fixed or covered up. Why he isn't afraid to make jabs at him and call him silly, call him ridiculous and cheerfully laugh while doing so because he inexplicably places his trust in Cello to not hurt him and to understand that he only teases out of what the earl can only assume to be some misguided fondness, while everyone else treats him like a hurricane trapped in a cracked jar that could break loose and wreak havoc at any moment.

He doesn't understand why Finn would think of him as a friend. As someone he would want to spend his time with when he, unlike Cello and his ageless body untouched by the passage of time save for the scars, didn't have much of it to spend.

Finn seems to sense his shifting mood. How it's stopped its course of leveling out and is spinning back down, down, down with each passing thought flitting through his mind. Finn is keen on helping everyone and anyone in whatever way he can, even those who might not deserve it.

"You wanna hug?" the boy asks, spreading his arms wide and invitingly. Cello jerks his head towards him, snorts, and stares at him in disbelief.

No, he doesn't want a hug, especially not right now. Not when he's covered in blood – some of it his, most of it not – and grime and so very twisted up inside. But Finn is looking at him expectantly and like he's been turned down one too many times already. Perhaps Finn was only offering because he _himself_ was the one who truly wanted a hug and everyone else had said no. It must have been a desperate times measure to try and ask the temperamental earl for one, friendship notwithstanding. Cello sighs, because he's always been such a weak thing at heart, and welcomes the boy into his arms.

Finn bounces up a little too eagerly, knocking the crown of his head into Cello's chin, but it doesn't hurt that much and he can't blame the boy for doing so. Even sitting on the ground, he looms over Finn by a good amount, so he drops his shoulders and ducks his head so that Finn can more easily embrace him. Contact is tolerable right now. Between his leather gloves and the heavy fabric of his uniform and the feathers lining his collar and shielding his neck, all Cello can really feel is the pressure against his rind and the thumping of Finn's heart.

It was a strange thing to notice how everyone had their own preferences for something as seemingly simple as a hug. Meringue enjoys wrapping his arms around his brother's chest and nestling close. Mother princess always curls her hands under his arms to place them on his shoulder blades and rests her chin on his shoulder. And Finn likes to hang from Cello's neck until he's standing on his toes, his temple digging into the side of Cello's jaw.

It dawns on him then how odd they've all been acting recently. Finn is clingy. Queen Marceline seems bored. The dog whines and moans and sometimes sits on the sidelines to watch instead of help. Mother princess has been growing increasingly more demanding by the day. Meringue is...

And Cello himself has been too wrapped up in bad memories to focus on what's in front of him. On holding his head high and moving forward like he always does.

What is _wrong_ with them?

Cello breaks the embrace at that point, pushing the boy away by his shoulders but still holding onto him. His eyes aren't focused on anything as a thought congeals and solidifies in his mind.

Finn is right. He's being weird. They're _all_ being weird. Something is off, not quite right, needs to be put back into its place.

He looks to the boy then, finding him staring up at him intently. Looking to him for what to do next.

"We need to go."

Finn only nods, and Cello knows he hasn't completely grasped the words he's spoken, but they still must leave and soon. There are pieces of the puzzle that are out of order and all wrong and they need to be rearranged back where they should be.

Cello shifts to get to his feet, allowing an extra moment for Finn to clamber onto his shoulder. It was the spot the boy usually took when they wanted to talk more face to face and so that Finn didn't have to exhaust himself to keep up with Cello's normal gait, and his weight is familiar and comforting. A tiny piece put back where it should be.

He stands once Finn has settled into place and begins walking, his feet taking him in the direction of their encampment, even though he'd rather go anywhere than back there. He explains his plan to Finn as he does.

"I am going to speak with mother princess," he says, grateful that the boy is here to listen. When he's with Finn, he can just _talk_ and he doesn't have to yell and shout and scream himself hoarse to try and be heard. "I am going to tell her that we need to pack up and leave _right now._ Not tomorrow. Not next week. _Now._ This is ridiculous... We should never have come here in the first place!"

"But the prancers-"

"If they wish to invade our lands, intrude on our homes," Cello interrupts, his voice hardening with resolve, "I say, _let them come._ See how they fare under our full might on our own turf. We need to _rest._ To do something else with our time, not run ourselves ragged until we're unwell!"

Everything is coming into sharp focus, the pieces suddenly snapping together effortlessly in his mind and all at once it makes sense. They're all exhausted, hungry, stressed to the nines and driven to taking bizarre actions and speaking words they don't truly mean to try and cope with it all. They're all growing sick in the head because they're stuck in one place with no end in sight, like hamsters running on a wheel.

He narrows his eyes at such a thought. Cello is tired of being the hamster. Of being something so small and so simple as to keep doing the same thing over and over with no improvement and no change in the results. What he _is_ is something large and wickedly intelligent. A colossal wall of muscle and power, despite the impression his bulk might give.

Finn frowns, takes in his reasoning, and pipes up to say, "l'll go with you!"

That gives Cello pause and his sudden stop in momentum sends Finn lurching and he has to catch the boy to keep him from falling from his perch. Finn rights himself, fists the feathers inlaid on his collar, possibly tearing a few loose. Cello tilts his head to catch the boy's eye.

"You know you'll be going against the princess' wishes." This is _his_ plan and his responsibility first and foremost. He doesn't want Finn to get in trouble for openly following it.

But Finn only snorts and gives him a look like he's being ridiculous once again. "So?"

Cello stares at him a moment before breaking into a laugh that's raspy and more whooshing air than sound. Genuine and true.

He continues forward once more, taking Finn's trust, the confidence that the boy places so easily in him, and locking it in his heart where only the most essential things to his being are kept safe and sound.

Their defiance is exhilarating. Something new and exciting. Something for his mind to work on, a problem to hungrily solve after having gone through the same motions day after monotonous day. He's feeling better already and a manic grin is spreading across his face, showing his teeth.

As they enter into the camp, Cello helps Finn slip down from his shoulder, barely slowing down as he does so. Finn hops and skips once he hits the ground to keep from tumbling over, falling into place beside the earl and jogging to keep up with his determined pace. Still by his side. Still following him into whatever danger lies ahead. An ally and a friend, and Cello suddenly better grasps the meaning of such things, but does not have the time to ruminate on them.

"Where is the princess?!" He barks at a few banana guards, watching them jump and tremble and point in the direction of the center of camp. Spineless creatures that Cello must protect because that is his duty, his birthright, and he gladly carries that responsibility. He shifts his course to head straight into the heart of their encampment.

Marceline takes notice of his noisy entrance, his purposeful gait, and swoops down beside his head, asking what's wrong, what's going on? But he merely waves her off. He needs to save his strength, focus it to a razor sharp point, because this will be the most difficult task ever placed before him.

He can feel the curious eyes of the banana guards on his back as he marches past, but he keeps his gaze forward, and uses the terrifying feeling of being seen to bolster his determination. Let them see him for once, not cower and avert their eyes. Let them know who _he is._

He is not a soldier, a pawn to be ordered around and cast aside when not in use. He is not a _general,_ he thinks with revulsion at the term. He is _Earl Limoncello Bubblegum._ His voice carries weight and meaning and cold, hard _purpose._ When he speaks, all should listen and know that his word is _absolute._

Pink and magenta come into view. Mother princess is standing just outside her tent, tending to a few bananas, and seeing her makes something in him falter and his pace slows as he's suddenly reluctant to approach her. It's not his place to speak up. He has no right to go against her word. She knows best. Then he notices that his slowing down has meant that Finn has nearly caught up with him and he can't have that. He can't stop now and he returns to his former march, stomping through the embers of a dying fire and throwing up sparks and soot so that he doesn't stop his momentum until he reaches her.

_"Princess!"_

She looks up, eyes going wide both at the sight of him barreling towards her and at the state of his appearance. Fresh from the battlefield. Not having cleaned up like she prefers so as not to scare her people any more than he already does. Raw and resolute and impossible to look away from.

He comes to a stop a few meters from her, clenching his fists and stomping his feet slightly apart and sending up a small cloud of dust and dirt around his ankles. Cello grits his teeth at the sight of her, realizing how lopsided this confrontation must look to those around them.

Mother princess, pristine and as perfect as ever after having kept herself from battle - from danger - for several days and an entire army she made just for herself at her side.

Earl Limoncello - Cello to those dearest to him and the word feeling more and more like his true name, his _true self_ each time it was spoken by his loved ones - tired and bloodied and bruised; covered in grime and muck; prancer blood splattered on his clothes and dried on his face and staining the corners of his mouth, with only Finn backing him up.

It draws a line in the sand between them. Mother princess having everything and anything she could ever want and more and Cello scratching and scrabbling for everything he has. Everything he needs to protect, even if what he's protecting it from is her.

"Limon," she begins, confused disapproval furrowing her brow, "What-"

"Princess," he cuts her off, stops the questions at their source. Banana guards are beginning to huddle around them in a circle. Queen Marceline hangs in the air above, bewildered and curious. The dog stretches his neck up from somewhere in the middle of the crowd to get a better look, ears perked. "This stops _here._ We need to leave."

Her frown only deepens. "Limon, what are you talking about? Are you feeling alright?"

"We need to _leave,_ princess," he repeats stubbornly, "Coming here was a mistake. We need to go away and not come back. _Now."_

Mother princess sighs and he catches the slight roll of her eyes that she tries to hide. "Limon, you're not making sense. I know you're stressed and things haven't been going as well as we hoped, but you need to calm down. Look, I'll get something for you to put you at ease. You just need to rest a bit and I'm sure you'll be right as rain."

She's not listening to him, as usual, but his anger doesn't rise to challenge her. His head is clear and he's focused and calm because whether she listens to him or not, the conclusion is the same.

Once he's said his piece, he's going to pack his things and go home. He's going to leave this place before it can warp his mind and twist his heart to their breaking points. If he can, he's going to take his brother and Finn with him. Save them from the madness mother princess is forcing them to endure.

 _"Princess,"_ he says, cool but firm, and this will be the last time. His last attempt to get her to see reason. "We cannot stay here. We _must_ leave. Can you not see that keeping us here is making everyone sick with worry and fatigue? We need to _go home."_

It's at that moment that one of the banana guards to his left bursts into tears, sobbing about how it misses banana guard 23 and wants to go home. The effect it has is almost instantaneous, rippling outwards until more and more of the bananas are crying and whining about how their feet hurt, how their peels are bruised, and that they too wanted to go home.

And then they all surge towards mother princess, some bumping into Cello's arms as they race past him, begging their precious creator to go home. A few of them grab at her dress, wanting to be hugged or patted on the head. Mother princess can't contend with all of them needing her attention and guidance at the same time and flounders almost comically this way and that, trying to soothe one and then another to no real effect.

Queen Marceline hovers upside down above mother princess, scolding her with something to the effect of "I told you so." The dog has taken the sudden spike in excited activity as an opportunity to morph himself into a large bullhorn and begins to chant "Let's go home! Wooo! Let's go home! Wooo!" and making things worse for mother princess as the bananas closest to him join in.

For a little while, Cello can only stare, baffled by the chaos he unleashed with just his words and not his actions. Bewildered to see mother princess falter so badly, unable to reign in her own subjects. Their eyes find each other's across the space between them, mother princess looking confused, angry, and a little pleading.

He realizes she can't keep her people in line without him there to scare them straight. Set them right.

And Cello doesn't really care to do so. Mother princess was older and wiser than him after all. She had made this mess in the first place. She could clean it up _by herself._

He raises his chin in haughty disdain for her unacceptable behavior that has dragged on for the past week and turns away, only just catching her mouth falling open in disbelief that he would leave her behind.

Cello nearly runs into Finn while doing so, having forgotten in the confrontation that the boy had been there the whole time. Finn is standing relaxed with his hands clasped behind his head, beaming up at him like he always knew Cello could do such a thing. His expression causes pride to swell in his chest, making the weight of responsibility on Cello's shoulders feel lighter and like he can stand straighter and taller than ever before. Finn was his friend, yes, but also something of a younger sibling to him like Meringue was. Someone to protect and do right by.

He cocks his head at the boy, finding the words for the question that had been gnawing at him for days. "Do you think I am more like myself now?"

Finn's smile only widens and crinkles the corners of his eyes.

"Not at _all!"_ He says joyfully and Cello finally understands what he means and smiles back.

"Go and pack your bags. We're going home."

\-----------------------

Fin.


End file.
